Would You Like Some Angst With That?
by ScapeArtist
Summary: This is a series of drabbles from the "Send me a pairing and a line of dialogue and I'll write you something angsty" meme from Tumblr. There are 2 Captain Swan prompts and 2 Captain Charming prompts here: 4 chapters total.
1. It's All My Fault (Captain Swan)

**A/N: Another drabble from the "angst" meme on tumblr. This time the line was "It's all my fault," and the pairing Captain Swan.**

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Three hundred plus years is plenty of time to gather the stuff of nightmares, so Emma doesn't know why she is surprised the first time she is awakened by Killian's sudden twist and roll accompanied by pained mumblings and whines. It takes her a few beats to remember where she is and whom she is with, but even her slow, fuzzy realizations can't stop the ache in her heart when she hears Killian mutter hopelessly, "Help me!…Liam, no! Don't leave me!"

She sits up, rubs her eyes, and pushes her hair out of her face before looking down at Killian. The sweat gathering at his hairline looks like beads of glass as the pale, bright moonlight streams in through their bedroom window, casting him in icy blue and the deepest black. Any other time and she would be breathless with how devastatingly handsome he is in this duotone of light and dark, but the pain and helplessness etched in his features is too much…heart crushing in a way she wishes she didn't understand so intimately herself. Killian's brows are pinched and his jaw twitches in time with his clenching teeth only to pause as he laments, "It's all my fault…all my fault."

His hand bunches the sheet and blanket in a short, tight coil, then splays out again, shaking. Emma reaches out to softly touch him, soothe him back to sleep, but he pulls away, breath hitching harshly in the stillness of the dark.

"Killian," she murmurs near his ear. "Killian, wake up. It's just a dream…just a dream."

She thinks her voice must be reaching him because the lines in his forehead begin to smooth out and the vein in his temple that throbs when he's stressed begins to recede. Emma tries again to lay her hand on his shoulder and this time he relaxes under her touch. She rests her forehead against his and smiles.

"It's ok, Killian. You're here with me now."

She feels him stir, his eyes fluttering open as tears slide down his cheeks and into his hair. The blue of his eyes is lost to the blackness of his pupils as he tries to focus on her, on now.

"Swan?" he asks, desperation burnishing the edges of his voice.

She wipes away the tracks of his tears and kisses his lips. "Yeah, it's me. You just had a bad dream," she whispers.

"Aye…sorry," he says sleepily as he shifts until his head is resting on her chest, arm wrapped around her waist, fingers tangled in the hem of her tank top.

"Shh…don't be," Emma tells him as she rubs circles over his back until his breathing evens out, and then she, too, dozes off again.


	2. The Empty Chest (Captain Swan)

**A/N: This drabble is from the "Send me a pairing and a line of dialogue and I'll write you something angsty" meme on Tumblr (I'm "scapeartist" there too, if you care to follow me). The line I needed to include was: "Don't trust me," and the pairing was Captain Swan. **

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Emma had been searching for Killian throughout the crumbling and smoking castle, dodging and knocking out guards and fearing the worst. Morgana had been after them both when they spilt up — Killian to take cover before flanking the sorceress and taking her down with the magical weapon Merlin promised would defeat her, and Emma to confront and distract with her own magic in a classic bait-and-switch maneuver. But when Emma turned to take on Morgana, neither she nor Killian were anywhere in sight. Terrified, Emma raced around calling for him, disregarding her own safety to confirm his.

Every second she couldn't find him was one too many. Making her way to the great hall where the standards and banners of Arthur had been shredded and set ablaze, Emma scoured the room, looking behind tattered curtains, overturned tables, cracked and dismembered statues. If there was a panic button to hit, she would have broken it a while ago because now she was outright frantic. She shouted for Killian again and again, her voice rough and on the edge of a frustrated sob.

"Oh, God, Killian…_where the fuck are you_?!" she said to herself, moving out into the corridor again, sword and magic at the ready. Movement several meters away off to the right caught her eye, and a figure slowly rose up from behind a stone bench that had been split in half. The black coat and dust-streaked disheveled hair gave her pause until bright blue eyes met hers and she rushed over, tossing down her sword and throwing her arms around Killian's neck as she peppered him with kisses, ignoring the soot and dust sprinkled over each of their noses and cheeks.

"Oof!" he grunted, wrapping his arms around Emma and holding her tightly.

"I thought I'd lost you…" she said between each peck and caress, her fingers anchored in his hair with no intention of letting him go even if a dragon busted through the ceiling, fire pluming from its fucking mouth. All she could do was be grateful she found him in one piece, and she'd be damned if she was ever letting him out of her sight again.

"Never, love. Never," he said kissing her back soundly, his hook twirling a lock of her hair.

Grasping the side of her head with his hand to stop her ministrations, Killian leaned in to nuzzle her ear. Barely moving his lips, she heard him whisper, "Emma. Don't trust me. My heart belongs to another…"

Stilled in confusion and horror at his admission, Emma leaned back to look into Killian's eyes, searching. Her hand slowly slid down his chest where she pushed it in and found nothing. His heart was gone. She pulled her hand away causing Killian to clench his eyes shut at the disturbance to his body for the second time in less than half an hour. "Sorry, love," he said quietly, the fear in his eyes conveying everything to her.

Emma backed away just as Killian doubled over, clutching his chest where her hand had been. He held up his own to keep Emma at bay even though she started toward him to catch him. "No, Emma!" he gasped.

Laughter echoed off the walls of the castle, booming and maniacal. The sorceress Morgana appeared behind Killian, his heart pulsing strongly in her hand as she held it out for Emma to see. She gave it a firm squeeze that sent Killian to his knees in agony, and tears of helplessness coursing down Emma's face.

"I think it's time we got to know one another, don't _you_, Savior?" Morgana asked icily, with a devious glint in her eye. Then, in a swirl of robes and wild hair, she turned to exit the castle, with a commanding, "Come, _slave_. Bring her too."


	3. A Wandering Heart (Captain Charming)

**From the "angst" meme on Tumblr. The line: "Please come get me." The Pairing: Charming and Hook.**

**Warning: Major character death**

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The texts were always the same: "Please come get me." Killian sighed and shoved the phone back in his pocket. It was early, past sunrise though, and he was just finishing getting everyone's lunches made for the day. Emma, still yawning and wrapped in her favorite flannel robe, stepped out of their bedroom and looked at him inquisitively, her hair disheveled and green eyes barely open.

"Did I hear your phone?" she asked.

"Aye, love. I need to run out for a little bit. I'll be back soon," Killian said, walking over to her and kissing her temple while he caressed her hip. She gave him half a hug in return, stifling yet another yawn before heading into the bathroom for her shower.

Killian pulled on his black leather jacket and grabbed both helmets before heading out the side door to the garage. He draped the spare helmet by the strap to the handle bar, then pulled his own helmet on before straddling his motorcycle and rolling it out of the open garage. He tried not to rev the engine too loudly since it was pretty early and he was sure their kids and neighbors wouldn't appreciate the racket, but as soon as he was out of the neighborhood, he gunned it, speeding off toward the forest.

It only took him about 5 or 10 minutes to reach Storybrooke's equivalent of the Troll Bridge, and when he got there, David was waiting for him, sitting on a rock, chin resting in the palm of one hand as he leaned his elbows on his thighs. His pajamas were wrinkled and damp from the morning dew, and his hair was a bit mussed and sporting bits of leaves. They were all getting grayer, not that you could see it quite yet in David's still mostly dirty blond hair, but the dark circles under his eyes were hard to disregard, and the lines around his eyes and mouth were deeper and he looked exhausted, the light in his warm blue eyes dimmed on mornings like this.

Just over two years ago, Snow had become ill, and when it was revealed that she had cancer of one deadly sort or another, it was too late to save her. Her sickness progressed quickly, making her frail and emaciated, but never weak — she was still Snow after all. She smiled through every failed treatment, and in the end, she told Emma to take her half of the heart she shared with David, which had been left untouched by the cancer, and give it to him so he could live on and be there for their children, of which there were two more: twins, Charlie and Leia. Needless to say it was quite the fight — David refusing to take it, wanting to go with her instead, and Snow pointing out to him rather insistently that it was her heart to give and he was the only one she would ever give it to. Refusing her gift was not an option.

A tearful David asked, "How am I supposed to go on without you?" as he held tightly to her delicate hand, which she had placed over his heart that was always beating in time with hers.

She gave a half sob/half laugh as she tried to soothe him. "Oh, Charming. If you have my heart you can never be without me. You have the most important part of me already," she reminded him.

"But, Snow..." he began, probably looking for a different tack to change her mind. Killian could imagine all too well his anguish and need to bargain his way out of such an impossible situation, but could do nothing for his friend.

Snow interrupted, "David, I gave you my heart twice before. Once on the troll bridge all those years ago when I was on the run, and then again so you could live to be a father to our children. I need you to stay. For me. But you won't ever be alone," she said gently as she drummed a steady beat against his chest.

David nodded, still clutching her hand and kissing her knuckles. "I'll find you," he said one last time with a smile reminiscent of the one he gave her that day they parted ways after defeating the trolls.

Snow gave him her most beautiful, knowing smile and said, "Always."

Turning to Emma, she nodded. Knowing better than to deny Snow anything at that point, Emma leaned down and placed a kiss to her mother's forehead as she whispered, "I love you" before reaching in, and, as painlessly as she could, pulled Snow's heart from her chest. She turned to David who could not have looked more bereft as he gripped Snow's lifeless hand, then pulled the other half of Snow's shining heart and bound them together again before pushing it back in David's chest, whole, yet not.

Not too long after they put Snow to rest, although not in a glass casket, but something more solid, permanent and quite grand, Killian received his first text from David needing him to "Please come get me." Seems he had taken a nap one afternoon and woken up at the bridge with no explanation or idea how he got there. Not wanting to give his children — Emma especially — something to worry (or feel guilty) about, he called Killian to come get him. David swore him to secrecy hoping it would be the only time he needed Killian's help. But it wasn't.

Over the next several months Killian received a handful of texts from David, usually in the early morning before anyone else was awake, to "Please come get me," no other explanation given or location needed. It was always the Troll Bridge. At first, David's confusion and distress were unnerving even to Killian to the point where he suggested meeting with Dr. Hopper or someone at the hospital, but over time, both men seemed to accept that as long as David had Snow's heart, she would always lead him back to where they began. To remind David she was still there with him always. David began sleeping with his phone in his pocket at all times. Killian was rarely without his own either. Neither of them ever told David and Snow's kids what was going on.

Slowing to a stop at the foot of the bridge, Killian handed David the extra helmet.

"Everything all right, mate?" he asked as he did each time while David climbed onto the seat behind him.

David's answer was always the same: "Yup. Snow says thanks for the lift home."

"Anytime, mate, anytime."


	4. Wanted Men (Captain Charming)

**A/N: I've combined three Captain Charming requests for the angst meme on tumblr into one AU story...and ripping off the angst bandaid so to speak. The lines were:_ "__oh fuck, oh FUCK__" and "__look at me - just breathe okay,__" __"__I'm not cut out for this,__" "__I'm gonna be sick,__" and__ "__I can't breathe.__" _**

**Warnings for car crash injuries. And angst I suppose. **

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In the early morning hours not long after daybreak, Killian Jones eased open the door of his apartment wide enough for him to slip through, then pushed it shut softly behind him, trying not to give away his whereabouts to his neighbors who were probably getting ready to start their day. He slid home both the deadbolt and the chain locks before rushing the short distance across the sparsely furnished living room to his roommate's door. "Jig's up, mate! Time to go," he announced before stepping into his own room and getting down on the floor next to his bed.

Reaching under the bed frame, Killian felt around until he found his worn and faded duffle and pulled it out from between a family of dust bunnies that trailed out with it. He tossed the bag onto his still neatly made bed and began transferring clothes from his bureau into it haphazardly, his eyes darting around the room making sure he didn't miss anything important. He'd pared down before relocating to Storybrooke several months ago, so the number of possessions he had any attachment to was fairly small. Luckily. The bag was far from spacious.

David, Killian's best friend and literal partner-in-crime, appeared in his doorway, dirty blond hair neatly trimmed and his classically handsome face clean shaven and ready to face the public in his rather unassuming job at the local animal shelter. He was every inch his con man alias: "Prince Charming." At least he would have cut more of a noble figure if his steel blue eyes weren't narrowed in suspicion, his jaw and lips set in a hard line, and his well-muscled body tense and poised in the doorway as if ready to dash at the first sign of trouble. They were, unfortunately, well versed in hyper-vigilance.

"Go? Is this some kind of joke? What the hell'r you talking about? I was just starting to like it here," he complained gesturing to the world outside their door.

Killian stopped, mid-stuff and looked up at the man who was like a brother to him, chagrined while at the same time irritated that he wasn't already half packed, too. He knew the drill. "Aye, well, we've been made. Now hurry up and grab your things. We have to leave. Now."

David rolled his eyes and dropped his head back with an exasperated huff. "I'm gonna be sick," he groused, wiping his hand over his face and taking a shaky breath. Turning on his heel, he went into his room and Killian could hear him opening and closing drawers and tossing things on his bed, grumbling to himself the whole time. Neither of them had bothered keeping a "go bag" anymore which was their first mistake.

"Me, too, mate," Killian mumbled, wishing there were some way to make this up to David...and to...well, who else didn't matter. He'd broken things irrevocably.

Killian met David many years ago when they unwittingly pulled a con (competing pyramid schemes) on the same person at the same time. When they both realized what was going on, they ditched their mark and changed tack, working together instead on bigger, better scores — jewelers, galleries, antique dealers. Something befitting a two-man operation. They found they had a few things in common — namely dead brothers and too much time on their own, with no family to ground them. They were also incredibly clever men who plundered those who could afford the losses. Both recognized pretty quickly that they worked better together than separately, and they built a solid reputation among their fellow thieves and con men, as well as a nice little fortune they had stashed away in an offshore account for a rainy day. A day like today.

When they landed in this sleepy New England town, ready for a change of pace and scenery, Killian promised David they could finally give up their life of crime — go legit — and that no one would ever find them here. They could finally just be normal blokes. They'd talked about leaving the country, heading to some nameless tropical island, but when it came down to it, that never appealed to either of them. They just wanted a life they had dreamed about and never had themselves. An average family life. A wife, couple of kids, maybe a dog. But this immediate threat to that potential future was all Killian's fault and he felt like shit for it.

"Just hurry, ok?" he asked as he rushed back into the living room for a couple more essentials.

"I _am_ hurrying," David shot back, the edge in his voice unmistakable.

Killian rifled through the contents of their small entertainment center until he found the movie he was looking for — _The Best of Bud Abbott and Lou Costello_ — and emptied it of its contents — about $2000 of emergency cash — and jammed the money in the inside pocket of his jacket. It was enough to get them out of town and over the border into Canada to maybe purchase a couple of plane tickets off the continent. Killian sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. _What a fucking mess I've caused_, he thought.

"How'd we get made anyway?" David asked as he came into the living room, bag in hand. "We've been so careful..." he said, bewildered.

"Apparently I was talking in my sleep." Killian responded, still kneeling down by the TV.

He tossed David the _Laurel And Hardy_ dvd case, which he emptied of its contents — fake passports and IDs — and the two of them headed toward the window in Killian's room, scooping up Killian's bag along the way.

Killian raised the window as wide as he could and pushed the screen up out of the way so he could squat on the sill, balancing on the balls of his feet. He dropped his bag down to the narrow walkway just a little over one story below where it landed with a soft thud. He braced his hand on the window casing and pushed himself off the sill and onto the pavement. He gestured to David to throw down his own bag for him to catch.

David peered over the ledge and tossed the bag down asking quietly, "And who exactly were you sleeping with to make this a get-the-hell-out-of-Dodge thing?" Before Killian could answer, David also hopped out of the window.

Landing next to Killian with a short grunt, the look on David's face was somewhere between expectant and accusatory. Killian scratched behind his ear and with a wry grin said over his shoulder, as he turned to high tail it through the backyard of their building, "Emma Swan."

Confusion overtook David's face, and he stood stock still for a second trying to place the name before he snapped his hand out and grabbed the back of Killian's jacket, stopping him from getting any further.

"Wait," he said, turning Killian around to look at him. "_Sheriff_ Swan? Are you out of your fucking_ mind_?!"

Shrugging out of David's grip, Killian looked him squarely in the eyes. "Perhaps," he admitted. He pressed his lips together and nodded in the direction of his car that was parked over on the next block. "Now let's go. There's no time to tarry," he warned.

They sprinted through two yards and down one more alley before reaching Killian's graphite colored Mustang. He unlocked it with his key fob and popped the trunk at the same time. He and David tossed their bags in which landed on top of another bag filled with Killian's tools of the trade — specifically the grappling hook he used so often to help him break into places when he was starting out in the business of burglary and theft. He loved to scale buildings and sneak in through roofs and attics, and using the hook gained him his alias, "Captain Hook," which amused him greatly. He shook his head, wishing for the first time in years that he had taken a different path. But it was too late and a normal life wasn't in the cards any more, that much was painfully obvious. Now he just needed to watch David's back as they had done for each other so many times before. Killian slammed the trunk shut and ran around to the driver's side and hopped in. David followed suit on the passenger side, dropping into his seat red-faced and breathing heavy.

"I'm not cut out for this," he wheezed.

Killian chuckled and smirked at his friend, dark eyebrow raised as the engine turned over with a deep rumble. "That's what you get for being the inside man all the time, mate. You've gotten soft."

David was less than amused. "Fuck off, Killian. Not all of us have delusions of being Spiderman. I wouldn't need to run around like a...goddamned fugitive if it weren't for you and your...shitty sleeping habits. What the hell were you doing staying the night anyway? Breaking your own rules now?"

Why he stayed at Emma's was definitely not a conversation he was ready to have with David. He'd barely grasped the implications himself. It was the first time he'd done it — stayed overnight with a woman. She made him feel comfortable and ironically, safe. "I'm sorry, alright? What else do you want me to say, mate?" Killian implored.

"Shut up and drive. I'm still pissed at you."

Killian took as many side roads toward the edge of town as he could before getting on the main drag that would lead them north to the highway. He glanced over at David every few seconds, watching his expression shift from irritated to resigned and then back to bewildered.

"I still can't get my head wrapped around this," he said. "You've been sleeping with _a cop_?"

Giving David a frustrated grimace, he exclaimed, "Aye! That's what I said." His eyes shifted to his rearview and side mirrors to make sure they weren't being followed. He thought he heard sirens off in the distance, but he couldn't be positive. He tried to calm his voice and project some sort of optimism for the situation. "We might just have enough of a head start to cross the town line before she figures out we've left," he said.

David thumped his head rhythmically against the headrest and shut his eyes with a sigh. "Mary Margaret is going to kill me when she finds out."

"Not if Swan gets us first."

Turning abruptly in his seat, David shook his head and bit out, "Thank you. I feel so much better." He sat back in the seat, arms crossed over his chest looking more like a petulant child than a seasoned con man. "I can't believe you…. Sleeping with the enemy. What the fuck is wrong with you, Killian? I thought we were done running. We had a good thing here. How could you risk that?"

Killian shrugged and struggled with an explanation. "I dunno, mate. She and I...we just..." he looked over at David, begging him silently to drop the topic. Whatever he was going to say was a moot point now. He was on the run and she was coming after him. And not in the good way. He frowned, heart shattering at what he'd done to all of them.

David let out a bitter laugh, eyes wide. "_Son...of...a...bitch_...you _love_ her don't you?"

Staring straight ahead at the open road before them and leaving David's question pointedly unanswered, Killian's heart felt like it was crumbling in on itself with every faltering beat until there was nothing left of it but ash and regret. He would never again touch her soft skin, feel her breath mingling with his, look into those beautiful, sad, green eyes of hers, or hear her cry out his name either in laughter or passion. He ruined his chance at happiness forever after with a brilliant, beautiful woman all because he talked in his bloody sleep like a child.

He couldn't even be sure _exactly_ what or how much he said, but he remembered dreaming about the last job he and David pulled in Chicago — David posing as a museum curator trying to charm a widow into "loaning" one or two of her high-value paintings for an exhibit at his museum. Once she agreed — and their marks always did — Killian would be the one to collect up the paintings and the two of them would be off to the next private collector in another city with whole new identities. It was a grand adventure...at least it was until the conning became tiresome and less challenging, and remembering which lies they told became too complicated. They both decided it was better to retire now before the FBI figured out who they were. If they stopped, it was likely they'd never be hunted again. So they went underground, and as soon as it was safe, they unloaded their "treasury" as they liked to call it, to their most reliable fence, August, stashing the bulk of the payout in the Cayman Islands.

David slammed his fist on the dashboard. "Ugh. You idiot!" he groaned. Killian couldn't blame his frustration nor his anger. David had just fallen in love himself. Only with someone far more...safe. A Kindergarten teacher named Mary Margaret Blanchard. Didn't get much more squeaky clean than that and Killian envied the lack of complication in their relationship.

The close quarters of the car did nothing to stifle David's mutterings. "Had to fall in love with the _one_ person who could put us away," he mumbled bitterly. "How do you know she made us anyway?" he asked with a degree of dubiousness, no doubt wishing this was all a huge mistake.

"I heard her on the phone to the FBI. I snuck out the window of her bedroom and came to find you."

"Yeah, well, I wish you hadn't."

The words were no sooner out of David's mouth when the squeal of tires caught Killian's attention bringing his focus on the squad car that came roaring up behind them, lights flashing and sirens blaring. David looked out the back window just as Killian sped up putting a little more distance between them and Sheriff Swan.

"Crap!" David yelled just as Killian ground out, "Bloody hell." They were so close to getting away clean. Slamming his foot down on the gas pedal, Killian leaned forward in his seat even as the force of the acceleration forced David back into his.

Glancing in his side mirror for a look at the woman he loved because he couldn't help himself, Killian caught the determined set of Emma's mouth right before she blocked it with the mouthpiece for the speaker of her cruiser.

"Killian, pull over. Now. If you don't, I'm authorized by the FBI to use any means necessary to aprehend you," she stated in her best official voice. Killian wasn't swayed though. It wasn't until she pleaded very much in her own wavering voice that gave him pause. "Please, Killian, it doesn't have to end like this."

For a split second Killian hesitated, lifted his foot just a fraction from the gas and thought of pulling over, letting her capture him. End this life of lies and deceit. Maybe she'd wait for him to get out of jail...maybe she could forgive him one day for not telling her everything he'd done and was. He glanced at David who watched Emma with wide eyes full of fear. Killian had promised him years ago that they would never get caught and he meant it. If it was just him, it would have been an easy choice. He would stop running. But it wasn't just him. And he didn't break his promises. Especially not to family. And after all they had been through, David was as much his brother as Liam ever was. Gazing at Emma in the mirror and catching her eyes pleading with him to stop, he took in the flush of her cheeks and that golden hair he would never feel slip through his fingers again and made his decision. He pressed his lips together in a small, sad smile and shook his head slowly before stepping back on the gas again.

Next thing he heard was the shattering of glass as his rear window exploded. Killian did his best to keep hold of the wheel as he swerved from the shock of the noise behind his head. The bullet she fired was lodged in the front window, which now had spider cracks lacing through it.

"That was a warning shot, Killian. Pull over now!" Emma's caution came through louder now that one of the barriers between them had been eliminated.

"Oh fuck! Oh FUCK!" David yelled from where he had ducked down in his seat.

Killian spared a quick look at David trying to assess any damage. He grabbed him by the shoulder and shook him. "Dave! Are you ok?!" he shouted.

David looked back at him, incredulous. "No, I'm not ok! She just shot at us! What the fuck, Killian? We're art thieves, not fucking mass murderers!"

"Aye, I know. Just hang on. I'll get us out of this."

Scanning for some kind of access road he might be able to lose her on, he came up empty. They were too close to the toll bridge and the ravine was just starting to get steep on either side of the road. Of course, that's when Emma decided to shoot out one of his tires, the report from her gun echoing throughout the area, and the sudden shift in balance sending them careening off the road and down the embankment, skidding along the steep decline into the woods that eventually led to the river. Killian tried to remain in control of the car, but he'd been going too fast and couldn't regain any equilibrium with that tire blown, so they bounced and ricocheted off trees and scraped the undercarriage of the car on large rocks until they ended up tipped onto the side of the car, wheels spinning uselessly.

The whole time he tried in vain to correct the course of the tumbling car, memories of his life with David and fantasies of his future with Emma felt impossibly far away, never to be found again under the wreckage that followed in his wake. There was no way any part of this scenario was going to end well, but he prayed that he could salvage something. Anything to put right the mistakes he'd made. It seemed like forever before the out-of-control vehicle finally stopped, hood smoking and crunched, airbags finally deflating into a sagging glob of dangling material.

Seconds went by like hours as Killian tried to get his bearings. He was on the high side of the car, David below him to the right. He could feel something warm trickling down his face and he touched the spot gingerly only to pull away bloody fingers. He winced and tried to turn his head to look at David. He couldn't move very fast, his neck stiff from the beating they took as the car managed to hit everything in its path. Killian could hear David groaning and was worried beyond anything he'd felt since his brother was killed.

"Dave?..._David_! Can you hear me?" he cried, voice breaking at the sight of his friend practically unconscious.

"Uhnnng..." was David's only response. He was barely moving and Killian could see the passenger window was shattered and a pool of blood growing beneath David's arm. _Shit shit shit_...

Finally cracking open an eye slightly, David rolled his head slightly to catch Killian out of the corner of his eye. "That...was...unexpected," he breathed as if every word cut him. And, in fact, David's breathing became labored and wet sounding making Killian frantic. He tried unlatching the seatbelt but it was jammed and he risked flipping the car or landing on David if he fell. He was just now noticing the blinding pain that shot up his own leg. It had to be broken. It didn't matter though, he had to help David. Get him to a doctor… or at least keep him alert until Emma could find them because he knew she wouldn't just leave them to die. Sheriff or not, he knew she cared for him. She'd come for him.

David's eyes drifted shut as he struggled to breathe. Killian felt tears burning in his eyes hotter than the trail of blood that ran down his face.

"Look at me — just breathe, okay?" he pleaded. "David!" _Oh God, Emma, hurry..._

"I can't breathe..." David rasped.

"Shhhh...then. Don't talk. Please, David, don't you die on me, too. Emma will be here soon. She'll bring help. _David_!"

Shaking his head ever so slightly, David's head lolled onto his shoulder closest to the ground, too weak to hold it up.

Between his own blood loss and his anguish at what he'd done not just to David but to Emma, too, Killian began feeling light-headed. Darkness began seeping around the edges of his vision and he couldn't stop it from creeping in farther, dimming his world. Looking in his cracked rear view, he could just make out Emma's reflection as she carefully made her way to the overturned car, gun drawn, but terrified look on her face as she holstered it and began to run toward them.

"Hurry Emma..." Killian whispered before the darkness overtook him.


End file.
